


Too much and not enough

by i_mperfect



Category: Pro Wrestling NOAH
Genre: Ambiguous Relationships, Flirting, Jealousy, Kissing, M/M, Praise Kink, Secrets, Smut
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-12
Updated: 2021-02-12
Packaged: 2021-03-12 00:07:25
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 2,464
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29376123
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/i_mperfect/pseuds/i_mperfect
Summary: Seiki tries to navigate what it means to be something to Marufuji. And what he might want it to mean.An ongoing series
Relationships: Marufuji Naomichi/Yoshioka Seiki
Comments: 4
Kudos: 4





	1. Sentimentality

**Sentimentality**

Seiki is surprised to find that, despite its origins in a fascination and an impulsiveness that hasn’t always served him, their relationship has a substance beyond simple self indulgence. There’s an understanding between them that he craves. “Tell me what you want” becomes “tell me how you want it”. And increasingly not even that is necessary. There’s comfort in being so thoroughly picked apart and acknowledged. To not have his need be seen as a weakness. To be able to fulfill a need in turn. But even beyond that, there are knowing smiles, private jokes, the things of shared secrets and interests. Things that drag this from existing just on the edge of his imagination, to taking up space in his life he hadn’t bargained for. It occurs to him that this, that  _ they _ could be...something. 

He doesn’t encourage the thought. Because they aren’t. But he thinks about it more than he knows he should. And then when he’s cornered, Maru’s hands on his bare hips, pushing him back into the wall and mouthing at his throat, teeth pulling over skin, just to prove he could, and then a whisper “happy birthday”, the shudder it sends through him has an edge of sentimentality to it he knows is even more dangerous than the loss of control from the hands pulling down his waistband. 


	2. Habit

**Habit**

Show days come with a heightened tension. Maru has never stopped finding ways to torment him and he’s never really wanted him too. A pointed stare, running his tongue over his lips, whispered suggestions as they stand around, always waiting. They both attempt discretion, though Seiki is almost certain this is an open secret. Somehow that knowledge does nothing to dampen the thrill of it, since everyone sees fit to ignore the obvious. Even Haoh offers no more than a raised eyebrow, a barely suppressed smirk, on the rare occasions he’ll admit he’s watching. Seiki almost envies his ability to move on from this. Not that he wants to give it up. 

It has become a habit to steal a moment in an empty corridor. Seiki’s hands under Maru’s t-shirt, bringing his nipples to hardness with practiced fingers, running his tongue over collarbones, fighting the urge to nip at the already reddened skin, feeling the slight rumble of Maru’s enjoyment in his throat. Seiki presses against him with an eagerness just short of desperation, rewarded by a friction and gripping fingers that suggest that the man underneath him is only feigning submission, so long as it suits him. Until he can wind his fingers through Seiki’s hair and guide his attentions lower. 

The sound of footsteps echoing down a hallway call him back to himself. Before he pulls away, the words are dragged from him, gasping, strangled in their desperation “I need..”. Maru’s fingers stroking the back of his neck, tracing his hairline, gentle...words whispered against his forehead “I know..I know. Soon. I promise”. They separate, Seiki having to consciously dampen the heat that rises in him at the surety of those words. Walking away, he glances back, Maru adjusting himself, smoothing back his hair, fingers rubbing at his neck as he strides off in the direction of the disturbance. Maru doesn’t look back. Seiki shakes away the thought that he might want him to. 


	3. Questions

**Questions**

What they are remains unclear, unspoken. There are dinners that are not dates. Small bars, hotel rooms, long drives. Maru tries jokingly to tempt him with sugar and alcohol, though those are hardly the worst of his temptations. What Marufuji reveals of himself feels both significant and elusive. Given freely but not truly explained, lost behind laughter, stories and his persistent interest in things other than conversation. Maru takes an interest in him, asks thoughtful questions, remembers the answers. And when Seiki’s guard is down, Maru asks more dangerous questions, with answers he’s never put voice to before. Maru remembers the answers to those too. 

And really, it comes down to this. To bodies that respond without asking what comes next. To Maru, gripping his chin tightly, head on one side, studying him, eyes hungry and dangerous "like this?"

Seiki tells himself that it is this he wants more of, only this. He tries not to question what he feels in the moments after, the moments between. Tries not to question the growing affection he feels for the man, not just the idea of him. Especially tries not to question whether the lingering of Marufuji's touch, the invitations to stay, to talk, to sleep, might be more than the care and generosity he shows to all those he values. 


	4. Approval

**Approval**

It’s become easier to be honest about what he wants. Marufuji isn’t the only one who notices the change in him either. Harada accepts his challenge. More than that, he considers him worthy of it. There is a weight to this thing, a responsibility. Something just months ago he is not certain could have carried. But things are different. The connections he has here now go deeper. The pride he feels is more than his own. 

As he hurries backstage, equal parts elated for himself and concerned for the man he follows behind, he catches sight of Marufuji moving in the opposite direction. A glance, the touch of a smile, a nod from him that brings a warmth to Seiki’s chest. Though he can’t be certain whether it’s the recognition of a senior or a lover that moves him.

Marufuji’s approval presents him with an opportunity to make demands he might not otherwise. Maru relents, though his resistance is just for show. He's clearly thrilled at the hint of nervousness in Seiki’s voice, setting out his terms: no touching. He even follows instruction, hands gripping the sheets instead of hips as Seiki rides him, his movements slow, deliberate, testing him. But Marufuji has other weapons, the promises, praise spilling from his lips in breathy but not uncertain terms, wearing Seiki down until he breaks, as they both knew he would. Marufuji's hands wrap tight into the sheets, leaning his back against the wall, head back, neck exposed. Seiki, straddling his lap, finds a frantic rhythm that has them both gasping, Maru's hips pushing upwards as he comes, knuckles turning almost white and his breath shuddering with the relief of it. As Seiki leans exhausted against Maru's chest, Maru's hands finally make contact, stroking gently at the back of his neck. He continues to whisper breathy compliments, praise, against Seiki's ear as his other hand grips him firmly, making him come shuddering, spilling over Maru's fingers, his chest. 

Maru laughs slightly, his head resting on Seiki’s shoulder as they both catch their breath. Neither quite ready to move, to disentangle from this moment. It lasts longer than Seiki means it to. He’s not sure if that’s happening more or if he is just more aware of it now. 


	5. Walls

**Walls**

Seiki is getting used to reading the emotion on his face, to anticipating what comes after. In many ways Marufuji is easy to read - irritation, desire, humour, all flashing to the surface without hesitation, melting quickly into each other in a confusing rush of feeling. But there’s too much repetition and some things disappear without comment, acknowledgement. Some things perhaps he’s gotten used to not showing, not acknowledging, even for himself. 

This journey home is a long one, nearly everyone silent now, asleep or wrapped up in thoughts of home, the next thing. Hajime is slumped against his shoulder, periodically jerking awake to glance at the textbook slipping out of his hand. Seiki glances across the aisle, the dim light of the coach and occasional passing streetlight outlining the sleeping figure who has secured two seats for his own comfort. Knees up on one seat and back pressed against the window, facing inwards, his head is slumped against the headrest, hair covering one side of his face. There’s a flush to his cheeks from the dry heat of the air conditioning, the softness of his lips highlighted by the orange light passing over his face. But to Seiki he looks tired, a little drained, the barest hint of tension in his forehead suggesting this is not restful sleep. It crosses his mind that he’s never questioned the burden that Marufuji carries, that they expect it of him, and that he expects it of himself. But he has no time to dwell on the thought. 

As if aware of Seiki’s eyes on him, Maru stirs, eyes flickering open. At first his smile is soft, even a little pained, betraying something of his sleeping thoughts. But realising who is watching, it takes on more purpose, a smirk Seiki knows well. Maru stretches out his legs into the aisle, leaning back, exposing his throat and letting his hair fall away with a tip of his head. His smile, a raised eyebrow, all an invitation. Seiki swallows, feeling a little colour rush to his cheeks at having been caught and having opened himself up to such obvious provocation. Maru’s hand reaches up to his own throat, fingers tracing down, catching on the edge of his t-shirt, pulling at it. 

There’s a thump on the floor next to him as Hajime’s book finally slips from his hand, causing him to start. Seiki has to turn to make room, to assist as Ohara fumbles sleepily on the floor, mumbling too many apologies. By the time the book is found and apologies dismissed, Maru is sitting up in his seat, scrolling through his phone, frowning. The moment is gone. And Seiki finds himself dwelling on how casually Maru seemingly both owns and deflects from his own vulnerability. 


	6. Jealousy

**Jealousy**

Marufuji’s assessment of Harada proves correct - easy to provoke, harder to crack. Seiki wonders whether such a statement would apply to himself. Whether somehow both he and Harada both meet the same need. Whether Harada has met that need in other ways. Who meets it better. He’s even curious enough to ask, Marufuji’s laughter loud enough and long enough to sting slightly. His answer is teasing and ultimately unclear. It doesn’t matter, of course. Except that it does. 

Maru is late to arrive. When he does he tastes of alcohol and a cold wind. His eyes are full of private humour and there’s a slight edge to his teasing. “Between two geniuses Yoshioka? Should I be jealous?” A frown crosses Seiki’s face and the smile disappears from Marufuji’s. It’s just a moment but it drags. Until Seiki pushes forward, his kiss hard and heavy, urging forgetfulness in them both. It works. Mostly. 


	7. Frustration

**Frustration**

This is not their usual pattern, though parts of it are predictable enough. The suggestive messages, a late night invitation, the negotiation of a private but reassuringly neutral location.

There’s a need in him tonight. Seiki feels the tension of it as Maru leans back in the driver’s seat, hands pulling open his own jeans, beckoning Seiki forward. The relief in his sighs a little louder, a little more strained than usual. Fingers clenching and releasing in Seiki’s hair, at once tender and desperate. Marufuji is frustrated. This apparently the release he needs. The way the tension melts from Maru's body after he comes, hands gripping the edge of his seat and hips trembling, leaves Seiki almost dizzy. Drunk on how good it feels to draw this from him. To be wanted, needed in this way. 

As he so frequently does after encounters like this, Maru pulls him close, Seiki straddling him awkwardly as Maru's hands run up and down his thighs, tongue lazily exploring his mouth. Seiki knows now to recognise this affection for what it is. Maru no more holds back here than he does elsewhere. But this is fleeting. And it is also a regaining of control. Not over Seiki, though perhaps he could have it. It is control over himself he wants. Control tested, practiced in how he picks Seiki apart, making him beg for what he wants and then giving it to him so thoroughly, as if he already knew. 

Afterwards Maru drives him part-way home. The conversation is easy. Maru charming, attentive, always with some story to tell. But Seiki sees some of the tension return in his movements. Hands gripping a little more tightly on the steering wheel, eyes occasionally flicking away from the road to the lights on his phone, constantly flashing, changing. Seiki’s satisfaction waivers. Is his influence lost so quickly? Is it even possible to be enough? The silence that settles between them is not uncomfortable but it is increasingly filled with questions that go unasked, unanswered. 

As Seiki climbs out of the car into the dimly lit street, pulling his coat around him against the rain, Maru leans over. Between the noise of the rain and passing cars, Seiki makes out a ‘thank you’ that sounds more like an apology. Maybe it is. 


	8. Choices

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I'm being unashamedly sentimental with this one. I'll get back on track but let me have my moment.

**Choices**

As Seiki empties his third drink, he’s grateful for the excuse to leave the crowd, to stand instead waiting by the bar, to grab a moment of respite for his own thoughts. His head is a mix of exhaustion, pride, excitement, hope even. Today was the culmination of many things, for all of them. He looks back towards the table, seeing Marufuji laughing, the space next to him that he had occupied just moments before empty, ignored. Maru seems not to have noticed his absence, occupied as he is with so many other things. 

In between the tangle of emotions he has experienced today there is a sudden moment of clarity for Seiki. It dawns on him that much as he enjoys Marufuji’s attention, he has started to wish to be noticed in a different way, to hope that his absence might be just as meaningful as his presence. And almost simultaneously it occurs to him with absolute certainty that Marufuji has no space for more absences in his life. 

The realisation stings but somehow does not feel like a loss. In a way, he has always known this. And, as he turns back to see Maru beckoning him over, he knows that he has choices. That if he wants, he can stand alone and have that respected. That he has the support of those who stand beside him. That he has a place here that will not be torn from under him. He closes his eyes briefly, trying to release some of the tension he didn’t know he was holding, the solidity of the glass under his fingers a momentary anchor for the decisions he has to make. Can make. 

When he opens his eyes again the look on Maru’s face from across the room is quizzical, seeking a response. Seiki lifts his glass, tips it towards him in a toast, smiles. 

**Author's Note:**

> Every time I think I might be done with these two, I'm just not. This way you get to see the ebb and flow of it anyway.


End file.
